


slipping through my fingers

by galehads



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung-centric, Moving Out, Platonic Relationships, Quarter-Life Crisis, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28238436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galehads/pseuds/galehads
Summary: “What if all I wanted was just for everyone to be here again, for it to be easy like it used to be?” Doyoung asks. He is exasperated, but Taeyong is patient — he always has been.“Nothing was ever that easy.”Or, everyone is moving out, and Doyoung endures a quarter-life crisis.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung & Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung & Lee Taeyong
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45





	slipping through my fingers

Doyoung is not much if not a creature of habit. He liked routine, he liked familiarity. He had a comfort zone. It was something he tried to keep within his grasp, especially knowing that his line of work is not necessarily one of guaranteed regularity. During the busiest periods in their comeback schedules, every single day was different — and thus, he tried to maintain some semblance of a daily routine on his days off.

He realizes that most people resent banality, but personally, Doyoung has no qualms with it. It keeps him grounded, he feels, to a sense of normalcy. He liked waking up to his members, he liked cooking them lunch even though Taeyong cooks better than he does. Doyoung’s lived with them for so long, and to him, it’s easy to fall into a routine with them — nine pieces of a whole.

But what Doyoung perceived as comfort — coming home to his members, enjoying all of their presence in their shared space — was quickly slipping through his fingers.

They all live separately now, and have been for a while. At least, aside from Doyoung and Taeyong.

Johnny and Yuta were the first to move out. Johnny had wanted more privacy, especially being two years into a committed relationship; Yuta simply felt he had outgrown the space he’d been occupying on the tenth floor.

But Doyoung would be lying if he said he wasn’t upset that his members would be slowly moving out, one by one. He knows that they’re not moving out because they resented sharing the same space still, but more so that there was still so much to adulthood that they were yet to explore. There was an uneasy feeling in Doyoung’s gut, but he chooses to ignore it for the time being — especially since it would stop him from being supportive of his friends.

As time passed, the tenth-floor apartment eventually became empty, all members having moved into different places across town. It got hard to get together outside of work like they used to — it used to be as simple as everyone piling together in the fifth-floor living room for dinner, to watch a movie, or to discuss something like what to get a manager for their birthday.

But Doyoung makes do. He clears up more of his schedule and makes the time to spend with the members who don’t live with him anymore, He pays for dinner, and he pays for drinks. And he’s rewarded by Mark’s weird voice, mimicking Red Flavor while Johnny claps him on the back; with Jaehyun turning red in the ears; with Jungwoo and Taeil laughing and wheezing like they’re about to pass out; and with Yuta sniggering quietly with his back hunching over, shoulders shaking.

It’s the small things that make Doyoung miss living with them, but he compensates by thinking it makes him appreciate the times where seeing each other was so easy.

Then, Haechan made the announcement to his remaining hyungs that he and Yangyang had decided to become roommates. At that point, it was just Haechan, Taeyong, and Doyoung left in their dorms, and Doyoung had grown accustomed to this familiarity.

“I want to try living with someone exactly my age, and Yangyang brought up a similar concern, so I thought, why not become roommates?” Haechan said, shrugging lightly. In his periphery, he saw Taeyong nodding.

“If that’s what you need, Haechannie,” the elder said, “you already know we’ll support you.”

Doyoung presses down on the uneasy feeling in his stomach, and nods along with Taeyong. He offers Haechan a warm smile. “Just make sure to throw a housewarming party.”

He doesn’t notice the neutral expression plastered on Taeyong’s face as he said that.

Once Doyoung is alone in his room, his thoughts come at a rapid pace. _It’s just part of growing up_ , he says to himself, _and there’s nothing wrong with that._ Haechan, who he treasured, his very own younger brother, was an adult now, wanted to try new things without his hyungs. And Doyoung was prepared for that — he’d been preparing for years to see Haechan (and by extension, Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung) to suddenly be a fully-functioning adult; to grow up right before his eyes. But here he was, feeling so small, resistant to such big changes. He tries not to be consumed by his thoughts, but he’s not sure it’s working. He tries repeating the logic to himself, _it’s just part of growing up_ , and he tries to believe in it. But his heart still hangs heavy in his chest.

Doyoung laid wide awake in his bed that night. But at around 3 AM, he hears his door creak open. He already knows who it is.

“Knock-knock.”

Doyoung doesn’t respond but Taeyong already knows he’s not asleep. He slides inside, leans back, and the door clicks shut.

“Doyoungie?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

Doyoung doesn’t know what to say. Taeyong’s face stays worried as he shuffles closer. Doyoung scoots slowly towards the wall, making space for Taeyong, who slides next to him on the mattress. Once the elser was settled and comfortable, all Doyoung could do is let out a sigh. “Donghyuck.”

He uses the younger’s real name — he hasn’t said it in a while.

“Yeah,” Taeyong whispers.

“He’s moving out.”

“Yeah.”

“He won’t need us anymore.”

“We’re not what he ever really needed in the first place.” Taeyong says. “He needs the freedom to go and explore adulthood by himself.”

Doyoung exhales, and Taeyong can hear the resignment exit Doyoung’s chest.

It grows quiet for a while.

“Hyung?”

“Yes?”

“Is it bad that before Johnny, and Yuta, and everyone else moved out, I’ve never thought of doing so myself?”

“No,” Taeyong says, “of course not.”

Something about that doesn’t sit right with Doyoung, and he sits up. “But is it _really_? Why is it that I didn’t have ambitions for myself, and _just myself_ , outside of our careers? Everyone had already been planning to make their real estate purchases, to put in more to their personal life, to be more than just their work. And here I am, confused as to who I am unrelative to our public lives, and wondering why I’m falling so behind on these adult milestones. It’s as if I never wanted to achieve them in the first place.”

Doyoung cranes his head upwards, staring off into the ceiling.

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” he hears Taeyong mumble.

“But what if it _is_ , Taeyong? What if all I wanted was just for everyone to be here again, for it to be easy like it used to be?” Doyoung asks. He is exasperated, but Taeyong is patient — he always has been.

“Nothing was ever that easy.”

“And I _know_ that, but _why_? I know I have to be supportive of everyone, so I can’t help but feel bad because I realized that what I wanted would hold everyone else back. Why can’t I just be the grown-up I am, figure out what I want, and _just get a move on_?”

A pregnant pause, and Doyoung could sense that Taeyong was thinking — for which he is grateful. Taeyong is careful with his words, Doyoung remembers, the direct effect of the rigorous image training that their company mandated as trainees. It’s a skill that has gotten more important when the members elected him leader. Where the media needed sugarcoating, Doyoung needed blunt truth — Taeyong knew both from practice, and he sought to deliver with consideration of the circumstances.

He finally opens his mouth after a while.

“Because you found us comfortable, Dongyoung,” Taeyong uses his real name — he hadn’t said it in a while either, “and there is nothing wrong with being satisfied with where you are now, because at least you are not in the place where you used to be.

“Everyone matures at a different pace and is going through different things. And it just so happens that everyone else was ready for more responsibility before you were. So why should you compare yourself to people who are in a different stage of life than you? Why should you push yourself for something that you feel you’re not ready for?”

Doyoung flops back on the bed, satisfied that he’s heard the truth, just as it is, but longing for an answer to when he’ll stop feeling like shit. He wanted to fast forward to when everything got better. He tries not to let the tears well up in his eyes, but he can’t help it this time, and hot tears escape against his will.

And Taeyong doesn’t judge him — he never has. All he does is take Doyoung’s hand and squeezes. Doyoung holds on, relieved that he’s realized what had been bothering him. But he doesn’t let go of the feeling that he’s falling behind.

For now, Doyoung feels safe knowing that Taeyong was next to him, grateful that he doesn’t move back to his own room. He rests his head near the elder’s shoulder, their hands still entwined. Doyoung lets himself slowly drift to the slumber that awaited him.

Donghyuck moves out two weeks later.

* * *

In the few months after Donghyuck leaves the dorms, Doyoung adjusts again, this time to only having the apartment to himself and Taeyong. The first morning he wakes up without Donghyuck around the apartment doesn’t feel foreign at first — it was similar to times where Hyuck would leave early in the morning, before Doyoung wakes up, for schedules with Dream. It’s only when he remembers that Hyuck moved out that Doyoung starts to ache a little.

Doyoung feels most of the loss during the weekend, in little pockets of the apartment that Hyuck used to occupy. What used to be obnoxiously loud sounds of video games in the redeye were now unsettlingly quiet nights. What used to be Hyuck tackling him in bed on mornings off was now the soft sunlight streaming in through his curtains. What used to be dinnertime now became too much for just him and Taeyong to eat, Doyoung has had to remind himself to cook for two instead of three, and the fridge is often full with leftovers.

It’s in these kinds of moments where he doesn’t know if Taeyong misses Donghyuck as he does.

But Doyoung makes do. He calls Hyuck in the morning once a week and asks if he and Yangyang have enough in their fridge. He sends them groceries once in a while, he cooks them food. Doyoung tries not to be invasive or imposing — to respect the individual adventure of growing up that Hyuck wanted to embark on — but he doesn’t know how else to express how much he misses the younger.

Doyoung gets better as time goes on. He falls into the rhythm with just Taeyong around — cooking the right amount, making sure the elder doesn’t go to bed too late. Doyoung goes about his responsibilities as usual: meeting the boys for practice, writing songs, recording, photoshoots. He goes home at the end of the day with Taeyong at his side, growing comfortable with the current pattern for two.

He ignores the thought that eventually, Taeyong will want to move out too.

* * *

The discussion comes sooner than he expected — over a quiet tteokbokki dinner that they made a regular thing — about three months after Donghyuck moved out.

“I found a place in Kai-hyung’s building,” Taeyong said quietly. He was picking at his rice cake, and Doyoung noticed that Taeyong was not quite ready to meet his eyes. “It’s nice. It’s in a good neighborhood. It’s near work, near my mom, near my sister and her family.”

Doyoung hums quietly — he knows Taeyong is trying to let him down gently.

“I won’t lie to you, Doyoung, I’ve been thinking about getting a place near my family for a while now. But if you’re not ready to live alone yet, I’ll hold off for a while.”

Doyoung freezes, back suddenly ramrod straight.

So many feelings wash over him, but guilt recurs most often. He feels guilty about being Taeyong’s deciding factor to whether or not he’d be moving to a different place. He feels guilty for holding Taeyong back, like all of the members before him. He feels guilty, simply because he’s not ready to get it together. He feels guilty for a lot of things lately, Doyoung realized.

So he takes a moment to think. Taeyong doesn’t egg him for a response — he waits patiently, setting his chopsticks down on his bowl.

Doyoung tries to compartmentalize, and tries to separate his feelings from what is objectively the best solution for everyone. Taeyong’s been there for him for this long; he’s still living with him, listening, cooking, helping Doyoung adjust and figure out what he wanted. It’s about time Doyoung did something supportive for him.

Was Doyoung ready to have Taeyong live away from him? Absolutely not. But would he give anything if it meant Taeyong would be happy too? Absolutely yes.

Doyoung anchors himself to his chair as he makes a decision. He no longer wants to be guilty, he no longer wants to feel like he’s being left behind. He needs to move a step forward, no matter how big or small.

“Okay,” Doyoung says quietly.

“What?” Taeyong’s eyes widen, surprised at his response. Maybe the elder had expected him to ask him to stay, or to have Doyoung burst into tears suddenly, or even to be angry. “What did you say?”

“ _Okay_ ,” the younger repeats.

“You’re okay with the both of us moving out?”

Doyoung brings himself to nod. “Have to eventually.”

Doyoung smiles a little when Taeyong flashes him a grin, and he’ll admit that he was beyond terrified to take the first adult step and live alone. But more than that, he was relieved that he'd mustered the courage up to make the step. It would be good for him. It would be good for everyone.

Taeyong reaches over the table, takes Doyoung’s hand, and he squeezes.

It was going to be okay, Doyoung reassures himself. Everything would be okay.

* * *

Taeyong says he won’t move out until Doyoung finds an apartment too. A gesture of courtesy, Doyoung thinks, but now he was a little bit pressured to find a place more quickly.

But Doyoung makes do. He scours the internet for listings in the neighborhoods he likes, he asks Mark and Jungwoo if there were nice apartments near where they lived. He gets in touch with Taeil’s real estate agent, and he tags along on trips to Taeyong’s new place to see it get its air-conditioning repaired. Taeyong invites himself to the apartment showings that Doyoung goes on too — it’s the well-intentioned company that soothes the younger from the anxiousness he feels.

In the process, he tries to find the positive in house-hunting, like reminding himself that it’s like being on HGTV, and finding out some preferences he didn’t know he had. It’d be nice to live near a park, he thought one day, and that a dishwasher would be convenient. He preferred heated floors, unlike the radiators in the dorms. Maybe a spare bedroom would be useful, he could double it into a studio. He hasn’t thought about getting a pet before, but he’d be open to one in the future.

About a month and a half later, he finds a nice place in the same neighborhood as Taeyong’s — the elder is only about a five-minute walk up the street. He’s lucky, he thinks, to find a place not so far from his comfort zone, and Doyoung promises to himself that the experience would not be for granted.

Doyoung’s choice of apartment is more than modestly-sized for someone his age, his real estate agent notes. But then again, his line of work (and his penchant for saving) makes the purchase possible. The master bedroom is spacious, and there’s a second bedroom that can also function as a home studio if he needed it. The kitchen is well-updated and modern — Doyoung doesn’t get the built-in dishwasher as he wanted, but he gets heated flooring. The building is pet-friendly, has good security, and is in a really safe neighborhood. He’s had to sacrifice some things on his wishlist to prioritize what he really needed. The apartment checks off most of his list, and so he was pretty satisfied with the investment. The real estate agent informs Doyoung that he can move in within the next week, so he, and then Taeyong, will do exactly that.

Later that night, after Doyoung’s signed the papers and he and Taeyong come back to their dorm, they have a little celebration. They order in, put on a movie, and pop open the bottle of red wine that Jaehyun immediately sent over when Taeyong told the group-chat Doyoung’s bought an apartment.

They toast to growing up, to being adults.

At one point, Doyoung leaves to the bathroom, and comes back to find Taeyong on a video call with Donghyuck. He listens in from afar, not wanting to interrupt the interaction going on. Taeyong calls out the younger’s name as it popped on his phone screen.

“Hyuckie!”

“Taeyongie-hyung,” Donghyuck replies in sing-song. “Heard Doyoungie-hyung’s finally got an apartment!”

“Yeah, he did. He signed the papers today — Kim Dongyoung is an _official_ homeowner.”

Doyoung feels warm when Taeyong beams with pride at the screen. Donghyuck returns the grin.

“Are you moving out at the same time?”

“Kinda. We’re gonna help each other move in, I think. Doyoung’s place first, and I’ll sleep over so he’s not alone on his first night. Then we’ll move my stuff into my place once Doyoung’s is all set.”

Doyoung kind of forgot about that discussion they had. He’s swimming in some conflicting emotions, eavesdropping on Hyuck and Taeyong: still terrified to live alone, but thankful that the older was still willing to keep him company for as long as he can. He hears Donghyuck mumble an _ah, okay,_ before Taeyong asks him a question.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

Doyoung thinks he hears Yangyang swearing in the background, and laughs quietly to himself.

“Ah! Video games?” Taeyong continues.

“Yeah. Yangyang and I are on a ranked Overwatch campaign.”

“Ah, alright... Have you both eaten?”

“Yeah, we had dinner about an hour ago... tteokbokki— YANGYANG, I’M ON THE PHONE!” Hyuck yells, turning his camera away for a second which was met with Taeyong’s chuckles. “Sorry about that. We also had sundae.”

Taeyong hums, “kinda like what you and Johnny used to have in the middle of the night.”

The younger laughs. “Yeah. I was kinda missing Johnny-hyung and that was our late-night snack, so we ordered that.”

Taeyong nods. “By the way, Donghyuck, do you need anything over there? Fruits? Toilet paper? Cookies? You’re both paying your electrical and water bills on time, right?”

“Of course, Hyung, we’re _responsible_ adults — right, Yangyang?”

“Mhm!” Yangyang’s voice chimed in, not visible on Hyuck’s screen. “We’re doing spectacularly, Hyung!”

Donghyuck laughs before he continues. “You just asked the same things to me that Doyoungie-hyung does, Hyung.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. He calls once a week, asks me if we need groceries or anything at all. Sometimes he insists on sending food to us even though I’ve already cooked,” Hyuck lists.

Yangyang slides over into view, waving at Taeyong while Hyuck continues talking.

“Other times, Yangyang and I will come home and find our fridge restocked with something that we coincidentally forgot to buy.”

Taeyong nods again, slowly. “Does it bother you? This habit of Doyoung’s?”

Doyoung holds his breath watching Hyuck laugh as if Taeyong had just said the most absurd thing ever. What if Donghyuck really did think that this was invasive? He was not reassured by Yangyang’s quiet chuckle beside Hyuck.

“Of course not. That’s just how Doyoung-hyung shows that he misses me,” Hyuck says, and Doyoung feels relieved, “just like how you pat me on the head, tell me I did good today, and buy me meals when we work late. I miss Doyoung too, so I let him take care of me whenever I can.”

Doyoung’s not a big crier, but he feels tears rise up into his eyes, and he doesn’t try to stop them, relieved that the feeling was mutual.

“Good to hear then. I just called to check up on you two,” Taeyong chuckles, then he waves them off. “Go back to your Overwatch, Yangyang-ah, Donghyuckie.”

“Mmm, alright. Are we still on for Friday?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay, nice. Good night, Hyung. Love you.”

“Good night, love you too.”

Taeyong’s screen switches off, and Doyoung walks in, pretending as if he didn’t hear the whole thing.

“Who was that?”

“Donghyuck.”

“Mmm,” Doyoung plops down on the seat next to him, “what’d he say?”

“Just, congrats on your new place, and that he misses you.”

Doyoung pauses, and smiles a little sadly. “I miss him too.”

Taeyong pats Doyoung’s hand sympathetically. “I know.”

Doyoung could only nod. “Where did we leave off?”

As the movie drones on, they sit in comfortable silence, like they usually do. Taeyong dozes off somewhere in the middle, and Doyoung is left alone with his thoughts. It’s not invasive anymore; it was no longer like he was falling behind from his friends, like his goals were out of reach. There is balance in his heart for the first time in a long while.

It was okay, Doyoung acknowledges. Everything is okay.

* * *

They move out that following week, and as promised, Taeyong helps Doyoung move to his apartment first.

Doyoung doesn’t have as many things in the dorm as he thought he did. Everything was packed within one morning, and then they shipped it all to the new apartment for them to start unpacking.

The first morning after they had properly finished unpacking his stuff, Doyoung realized just how sparse the apartment is. The room echoed even as he and Taeyong spoke normally, and it was intimidating, to say the least. The apartment suddenly felt too big for just one person — for just one Doyoung — and he wondered out loud how one could occupy such a large amount of space to have completely for themselves.

The apartment isn’t a home yet, Taeyong says, but it will be if you give it time — plus, he still needs furniture.

Doyoung decides to keep that in mind.

They spend his second moving-in day furniture shopping. He buys a mattress and bed frame first, the highest spot on his list of priorities, given that he and Taeyong slept on an inflatable mattress the night before. Then they shop for a flatscreen TV for the living room. Then Doyoung purchases an L-shaped couch with a light grey upholstery that he liked. Then a large shelf to store some of his books and the NCT albums he’s collected. Then they finally decide to call it a day.

Taeyong buys them a pint of ice cream before they head back to Doyoung’s place. A reward for both of them, he shrugs, for buying furniture like real adults do. But really, Doyoung knows it’s just something for them to eat while they test out the TV later that night.

He helps Taeyong move into his own space that same week. They get Taeyong settled, and Doyoung stays over, like the elder did for him.

The fourth night after he moves out of the dorm, Doyoung finally spends his first night alone, in the apartment he’s not quite ready to call home yet. He finds loneliness in many corners of his house. Doyoung wakes up to silence, to empty rooms, to lifelessness. The space is still echoing, and everything still feels foreign and unfamiliar. He remembers what Taeyong said, that the apartment isn’t a home yet, but it will be once he gives it time. It’s not as easy as it sounds, though — to suddenly enjoy staying in a place where you feel most alone.

But Doyoung makes do. He chooses to have dinner out half the time and makes his members eat meals with him. He goes to the nearby park to breathe some fresh air and see some ducks waddling by. He goes up the street to Taeyong’s and they babysit his nephew together. He cooks for Donghyuck and Yangyang, like he usually does. He finally sets up his bed frame, and doesn’t just sleep on the mattress on the floor anymore. He drags himself to IKEA and buys mundane things for the sake of completing the house. He buys throw blankets, and coasters, and storage boxes. He prints and frames pictures of his members, of his friends, of his brother, and of his family.

Doyoung adjusts, and the apartment gradually gets filled with things, both for functionality and decoration; to form a new comfort zone, to form new memories.

And Doyoung grows into the space. He grows comfortable, because he’s now a part of every single crevice of the house that he never thought he could occupy. He’s not going to lie — it does feel empty sometimes, because loneliness does seep inside through the vents, under the door frames. But he’s learning to keep it under control, and it works most of the time.

Doyoung starts calling his apartment _home_ too, for a change.

But granted, he finds that he faces some other challenges to living alone. While house-hunting, he was worried about loneliness and other abstract things that he felt were difficult to describe. He had to come to terms rather quickly that he’d be moving alone and would have no one around in that space. Yet it seems that he’s neglected some other concerns — ones that are more grounded to the reality of adult responsibilities, rather than the loneliness while adjusting to living on his own.

The first time he gets billed for water and electricity, Doyoung is dumbfounded. This was hardly one of the things he worried about before he moved out of the dorms — Doyoung had glazed over the thought, too preoccupied with other anxieties. And right now, he’s confused: not at the amount he’s to pay, but more so that he’s realized he has no idea how to actually pay for it.

He calls Johnny to ask, but instead he’s met with Johnny excusing himself and shutting off the phone.

But then the elder shows up at Doyoung’s door with Taeil in tow — before he could think that he’d been abandoned — and he’s delighted.

(Doyoung decides not to question how they managed to find his apartment despite never having come over before. The gesture Johnny offers by coming over is well-appreciated.)

When Taeyong found out that Taeil and Johnny are at Doyoung’s not long after, he insists on walking over to meet them. Then Mark, Yuta, and Jungwoo hear about it, and then Jaehyun, and then Donghyuck. Word travels fast within the group when it’s the matter of teasing him, Doyoung notes as he smiles to himself. He watches the boys pile into his apartment, scattering over the couch, messing up the grey upholstery, and eating his snacks.

“I can’t believe our sensible Doyoungie-hyung doesn’t know how to pay his bills,” Donghyuck teases, and Mark claps his back while guffawing. Doyoung is surprised to admit how much he missed the youngest’s teasing.

“He at least asked right as he got the bill, though, Hyuck,” Johnny laughs.

“Huh?” Doyoung’s eyes widen, and in his periphery, he sees Taeyong raise an eyebrow.

There are murmurs around as Donghyuck freezes. Then the youngest stands, and holds out his hand. “Don’t, Hyung, don’t!”

The rest cheer for Johnny to continue, and he does: “Hyuck and Yangyang actually missed paying for their first bill.”

Hyuck turns red, and tries to hide under Mark’s arm. Yuta and Jungwoo laugh from across them.

“They called me one day, panicking out of their minds,” Johnny continued, “like, ‘Hyung, help us, it’s an emergency, we don’t know why this guy is here!’”

“So I thought it was an actual emergency and I rushed over, thinking about what could possibly be so wrong that Hyuck and Yangyang call it an _emergency._ And I too, started to worry.”

“Anyway, I came over and it was just this guy from the water company that came to put up a notice. And I pinched Hyuck’s arm, all panicked for _nothing_ , and I went, ‘Donghyuck, he just came to remind you to pay your bill!’”

And Doyoung experiences it all again: the crinkle of Johnny’s eyes as he chuckles; Jaehyun’s deep laugh that resonates from the bottom of his chest; of Taeil and Jungwoo wheezing like they usually do; Mark slapping Hyuck’s thigh as he guffaws; Yuta sniggering with his shoulders hunched still; Taeyong mumbling something about Hyuck and Yangyang telling him that they had it all sorted. Suddenly he’s taken back to when it was still the nine of them living together, and his heart finds comfort in the small moment of nostalgia. He’s come to realize that he doesn’t necessarily want to come back to it — he just enjoys the memory.

“It’s not as dramatic as he tells it,” Hyuck whines, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Doyoung-hyung gets the last laugh though,” he hears Jungwoo say.

In retrospect, Doyoung was only relieved that it wasn’t just him that was scared by menial adult errands like taxes, rent, or bills — everyone else in this room had found trouble with it at first too.

But Doyoung makes an amused face for Jungwoo, smiling at him. “I guess so.”

In the middle of the ensuing commotion, Doyoung found it funny how easy it was to gather everyone together like this, as if they still lived together. As if his worries about them slipping through his fingers were for naught. As if nothing had really changed — because it didn’t. Nothing had _really_ changed besides the fact that they don't live with each other anymore, and he's come to terms with that.

Doyoung cooks lunch for them. And it’s familiar, he realizes, laughing and eating together, spending time with each other — it’s second nature. _Just like they used to._

(Doyoung googles how to pay his bills later that night. The group, aside from Johnny’s non-specific instructions, was not much help.)

As time passes, Doyoung starts to worry less about the company he has. His friends are only a call away; Taeyong just up the street; his brother having moved into the house just a ten-minute walk from home. He’s not alone, he feels — not _really,_ anyway.

At times, waking up on his own brings new revelations too. On any given day, he wakes up at 7.30 on the dot, and in gathering his consciousness, Doyoung enjoys the quiet. He makes himself coffee, he checks the news for a little, then he gets ready for the day. He goes about his business, he meets his members, does meetings, photoshoots, buys groceries. And then his day ends: he comes home, toes off his shoes, and sighs at the feel of the heated floor. Doyoung cooks himself dinner, reads a little, then works on the little piece he’s been composing. And once he’s sleepy, he gets ready for bed.

Everything throughout his day was done in the quiet of his lonesome — and he’s grown to enjoy it. He has a routine now, the kind he’s always craved, the kind he was scared of losing when everyone was moving out.

And eventually, Doyoung makes peace with living alone. He makes peace with the quiet. He makes peace with individual responsibility; with the fact that everyone has to go through some things on their own. He makes peace with knowing that he can’t wish for everything to stay the same — for everything to stay as he knows.

He makes peace with letting go. He makes peace with growing up.

Doyoung makes peace with himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I turn 20 next year. I think that’s what triggered this outpour of “how the hell have I achieved nothing thus far??” crisis. I thought about it and I channeled it to something productive — to Doyoung going through something similar.
> 
> Thanks to Stef, as always, for the sensitivity read, and for pointing out I spelled “perceive” wrong the first time. I love you for always.
> 
> Happy Holidays, everyone.


End file.
